


The Advent of the Human Race

by Noriah



Category: Original Work
Genre: #alwayskeepfighting, Angels, Depression, Heaven, Hope, Paranormal, Short Story, Supernatural - Freeform, end of the rope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 17:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10926957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noriah/pseuds/Noriah
Summary: Calling out to the darkness in despair, Cassandra beholds a heavenly visitor who sheds light back into her world. Hope is a beautiful thing.





	The Advent of the Human Race

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All those who were brave enough to keep on living](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+those+who+were+brave+enough+to+keep+on+living).



   The advent of the human race was not brought about by random means, rather it was love that brought men to fruition. This thought has escaped many. Shrouded by fear and desire, they fled the darkness looking for respite—but they will find none. Not a few stumble in the darkness, hoping to find a way. They know not where they are going, nor what they even hope to find, yet they press on with the knowledge that there is something aside from the big black void out there. What it is, they do not know.

Yet love will always reach out to help the hopeless pilgrim find a way. Though it's methods are not to be contemplated by men.

In the rolling world of filth and blackness many struggle along with the will to stay alive. Going on their way daily though the darkness, the nature of man presses him to move on. Something preserves him from the impending doom, yet he can not see it and does not know it.

The creations of man reflect the darkness they are surrounded by. Dark and dreary towns with roads choked by dirt. Houses built from the corpses of trees lean helter-skelter across a plain of leveled ground. Winds howl around the corners and shriek the curse of ages, a promise of change and destruction, to all who fall in its path. The doors to every mean abode lean crooked on their hinges as people peer around them with wary eyes. Shifty and un-trusting in this time of doubt, they watch the outside world in fear—weary with much toil, but without security enough to rest. How all things age and tumble under the weight of time!

Where shall these poor masses go? To venture ahead into the fierce wilds would bring about certain death. To remain brings little comfort. To go back is unquestionable. There is a reason they left those foul places behind them. Yet what can they do? Met with the burden of unending toil, they fumble day by day; each sunrise seeing them more feeble than the last. Until there comes a time when the spirit breaks, and the hopeless soul screams of its torment into the darkness. Crying for assistance, yet not knowing whom they hope to ask it from.

Yet sometimes love will come to the aid of the burdened. When the plea for assistance reaches its ears and the howls of despair echo off the valley walls, love will send a messenger to console the hopeless, that their footfalls may be directionless no more.

Cassandra was one of these long lost children of freedom, floundering in the darkness. Her own heart was heavy with many toils and unknown sadness. The life force within her, which had begun to crumble long ago, was now only a pile of ruins. Her pale skin and hollow cheeks, framed by dark and matted hair, was the picture of desolation. The meager proportions of her body lay wrapped in raged tunic and leggings. Her coat was no more than long shreds of worn cloth. The rags she wound about her hands did not save them from the cold. As she lay broken in the dirtiest of corners with the screaming wind biting at her cheeks, she felt the fullness of the misfortune that was upon her and lost her will to survive. The pangs of hunger clawed at her stomach. Her malnourished body shivered with the cold. The frigid mud that was the ground seeped into her clothes. And she wished to die.

In that moment she cried out to the darkness. Screaming under the pressure of her fear. Reaching out to the unknown, calling….. for what, she did not know.

As she was on the verge of sub-coming to the darkness, a bright light shown forth—the likes of which her mind and heart had never seen. A formless brilliance that stunned her as she lay broken and hungry in the cold. The light condensed slowly into the form of a man who, walking purposely toward her, sent out light in every direction. Slowly, the blinding white became dimmer, though no less beautiful. A powerful figure stood before her, his youthful skin seemed to glow and soft blonde hair slid across his shoulders. His body was lithe and strong as if reveling in the full vigor of youth, but his eyes contained the weight of wisdom and the knowledge of many years. A power seemed to whelm up within him and a gracious majesty adorned him more fittingly than any crown.

He came closer, ever closer; a gentle smile on his fair face. He knelt down in the mud and cold in front of Cassandra with a deep tenderness in his crystal blue eyes. He reached out a slender hand to touch her, laying it gently but firmly upon her arm, and she felt a warmth begin to flow through her body. When she let out a gasp at the sudden newness of life within her, he only smiled at her all the more. With smooth and gentle fingers he ran his hand across her hair. His gentle eyes never left hers, and she started to feel a sense of peace. He talked in hushed tones to her as though comforting a timid and frightened animal. She did not know what it was he said, but his words found their way into her heart. And there they stayed.

Suddenly she blinked, gaping at him in shock—her senses coming back to her as she became herself once more. Abruptly, his manner changed and his demeanor became all business. He sat back on his heals.

“Come,” he stated busily. “We have much to do.”

Gracefully he rose, bringing Cassandra with him. He looked her up and down once. Seemingly satisfied, he turned and began walking down the alley toward a wider, broader way. She simply stood and stared after him.

He looked sharply back over his shoulder,“Come,” he said, as he gestured toward the light. And though his voice was gentle, she knew it was a command. Cassandra blinked and stumbled to his side. He gave a slight smile and continued on.

She was not sure what was about to happen, or even who this being was. All she did know was that she had hope, and that was enough for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Depression is a life long fight, but where there is life there is hope.  
> #alwayskeepfighting


End file.
